


through this storm (i love you)

by thisissirius



Series: unconditionally [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Fire, M/M, Protective Aaron, Scared Robert Sugden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8643022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: Robert gives him a small smile. “This wedding night was supposed to be different. We were supposed to be different. Guess I should be happy I’m getting the ‘till death do us part’ side of it.”
chrissie's threatened robert once before with fire. this time, she drags other people into her mess.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings;** there ARE warnings for this fic and some are spoilers so they will be posted at the end so you can avoid them if you wish!
> 
> i've been writing this for weeks and i've been stuck on it almost as long. it's changed its form about three times and finally i just threw it at mer and jen and demanded they fix it! thankfully, they did. everything you see here is down to them guiding me and making sure i knew what i wanted to do with it. (jen gets tons of credit for actually coming up with the base storyline when my first version wasn't working).
> 
> i have some scenes i had to discard from this fic so i will probably be posting them as snippets.
> 
> i hope it works :>

Aaron’s married.

Nursing a pint at the bar, he can’t stop grinning as he stares down at the ring on his finger. Family and friends are throwing inhibitions to the wind as they celebrate the wedding just past - though Aaron's sure most are just using the wedding as an excuse to go mad with the booze. Aaron rolls his eyes as his mum passes, laughing loudly, already well on her way to bladdered. She's dancing on Cain’s arm to a musicless room, while Cain eyerolls Moira’s way. Someone takes pity on them and music spills into the room with a thundering beat.

It’s the kind of music that Robert hates, and Aaron grins into the rim of his glass at the thought of his husband — husband! He remembers the look on Robert’s face as he disappeared into the back room with Liv half an hour ago, smiling in a way that was too soft and happy for the mischievous look in his eyes.

“Where’s my brother?” Vic drapes herself against Aaron’s side. She’s nursing a coke, the stretch of fabric over her obvious bump precluding her from touching alcohol. She’s grinning, though, her lipstick smudged at the corner where she’s obviously been kissing Adam. Catching Aaron looking, she grins. “There's something about weddings.”

Aaron snorts. “Whatever you say.”

“Like we haven’t caught you and Rob in worse places.”

It’s not a comment Aaron can refute, so he salutes her with his beer and takes a deep gulp.

Vic stares out at the dance floor and Aaron follows her gaze. Marlon and Carly are slow dancing to a song that doesn’t match the tempo, and Aaron’s mum and Cain are still dancing, arm in arm, only breaking apart when Paddy asks for a dance. Vic nudges him. “So where is Rob?”

Aaron gestures over his shoulder towards the back. “Out there somewhere. Up to no good with Liv.”

“Aww.” Vic’s smile is warm, the way it always gets lately about Rob. Aaron can empathise; there’s something about the shift in Robert lately, about the generosity and care, the attentiveness and love in every word and action. He’s still Robert, still far too brittle and nasty when he’s provoked, and Aaron loves him regardless, but Robert seems happier, more at ease.

“He better not be trying to surprise me.” Aaron makes a face, but Vic looks unimpressed with his lie. Raising his eyebrows, all innocence, Aaron takes another gulp of beer. He’s never really been a fan of surprises, but with Robert it never feels wrong, something Vic knows well. Robert lavishes Aaron too much, and Aaron would tell him so, but it's the way Robert does it, the way he’ll look at Aaron for approval and happiness in equal measure, like it’s important that whatever he does, Aaron is happy.

Aaron _is_. Can’t remember the last time he’s been so happy for this long.

Vic opens her mouth to say something, but Aaron’s ringtone cuts across her, his phone vibrating against the bar. The familiar picture of Rob and Liv on the beach flashes up, Robert with sunglasses on, ice cream threatening to spill over Liv’s head, and Liv with her tongue out. Aaron remembers the day vividly, remembers the heat, the hand holding, Liv’s screams as Robert tossed her into the sea, only to fish her out a second later in panic for fear of having hurt her. Aaron swipes his thumb across the screen.

“Hey,” Aaron says, ignoring Vic’s expression at the softening in his tone.

“Aaron.”

Aaron freezes. It’s not Robert’s voice, but he recognizes it all the same. “Chrissie?”

Chrissie says nothing else, and a million thoughts tumble through Aaron’s head; why Chrissie has Robert’s phone, where Robert is, what the _fuck is going on_.

“Why do you have Robert’s phone?”

“He’s not going to need it, is he?”

It doesn’t make sense. Chrissie sounds too calm, and Aaron can’t think with the bass pounding through the pub; it’s doing Aaron’s head in. He runs a thumb over his forehead, can see Vic’s frown out of the corner of his eye. “Why? Chrissie, what the fuck are you doing?”

The music thumps, roars, and Aaron yells, “TURN IT OFF!,” as loud as he can when Chrissie’s voice comes through muffled. It takes a beat, but the music cuts out.

“Aaron, love?” His mum’s still drunk, but there’s no mistaking the look on her face, bleeding concern and apprehension.

Ignoring her, Aaron grips the phone tighter. “Chrissie, what do you mean?”

Vic’s gone still beside him, and at the mention of Chrissie, his mum’s mouth falls open.

Chrissie laughs, shrill and cruel. “Oh, Aaron, you didn’t think I’d let you be happy, do you?”

Aaron’s chest goes cold. Almost immediately, he reaches for his mum, grabbing her hand. “What are you talking about?”

Chas looks thunderous, but with no way to direct her anger, she can’t do anything but stare at Aaron.

“Where’s Robert?”

Chrissie doesn’t answer, just hangs up.

Aaron swears, fumbles with the phone in an attempt to call Robert back. It continues to ring. He tries again, again, again; hears nothing but the familiar dial tone.

“What’s happening?” It’s Vic that asks, her eyes wide.

“Aaron?” His mum touches his arm when Aaron doesn’t answer.

Aaron feels anger bubble up to the surface. Chrissie’s already ruined his family twice over, and now she’s trying again — he wants to find her, to _hurt_ her, and it takes everything he has in that moment to push it down.

He lifts his head, looks between his mum and Vic, but before he can say anything, the door to the pub bangs open and Rebecca bursts in. Her face is red, hair falling out of her bun, and her eyes immediately find Aaron’s. “Aaron! It’s Chrissie.”

Aaron’s immediately on her. “She just called me. What the hell has she done? Where’s Robert?”

As if his words break the spell over the pub, noise wells up in a crescendo, but Aaron keeps his eyes trained on Rebecca. Her eyes dart left and right, taking note of everything — and everyone — waiting for an explanation. She keeps quiet, though, wrings her hands in front of her dress.

“I swear,” Aaron snaps, “if you don’t tell me soon, I’ll—”

“She’s in the barn,” Rebecca says slowly, obviously seeing the danger staring her in the face. “She’s got Robert.”

 

 

 

 

 

As Aaron nears the top of the hill, the barn casts a familiar shadow on the asphalt. His heart is pounding in his ears, chest tight with worry, and it’s difficult to breathe. He and Robert have been married less than three hours and they’re already under threat. Aaron hates the Whites, digs his nails into the palms of his hands to keep from lashing out in the worst ways.

When he comes to the top, he skids to a stop, his mum and Adam hot on his heels. Lawrence is standing just metres away, his eyes wide, and when he sees Aaron, he seems to pale. “Aaron—”

Aaron doesn’t hesitate, lunges for Lawrence as the only person available to take his anger out on. Aaron jerks forward, fingers snagging on Lawrence’s jacket. “What the fuck has she done?”

“Aaron!” Cain grabs him from behind with Adam, both of them hauling him backward. “Now is not the time!”

“What’s your twisted daughter done now?” Chas snaps, coming up on Adam’s left, ignoring her brother's warning. “Where’s Robert?”

Lawrence’s eyes flick to the barn. “Lucky’s been sentenced today—”

“Good,” Aaron snarls, his anger flooding him, blinding him to everything but the panic beating under his skin.

Lawrence looks angry, sad, and guilty in equal measure. “My daughter’s in there too, about to do something stupid to your husband!”

Aaron fights against the hold Cain and Adam have on him, but then something seems to sag in Lawrence.

“Someone needs to get in there. I don’t want to see her or your sister get hurt!”

Aaron swallows thickly, stops fighting. His mind his numb. It’s impossible. Liv and Robert were supposed to be in the back room, not in the barn at Home Farm. Robert’s not been _near_ Home Farm, since Aaron asked him to stop the vendetta about Andy, and Aaron’s not sure why he’d be up here now, especially not with _Liv_.

“Why was he _here_?” Aaron snaps.

Nobody answers him, the silence almost deafening.

“I’m going to go get him,” Aaron says, already starting off the path toward the barn.

“Stop!” Lawrence snaps, and when Cain and Adam start on him threateningly, he yells out, “She’s doused it in petrol!”

Aaron freezes again, every nerve on his body on fire. The panic blossoms in his chest, thinks _Robert and Liv are in there_ and doesn’t know how to process. He turns to his mum, and he doesn’t know what she sees on his face, but she sweeps in, wraps him in her arms.

“What do I do, Mum?” He asks, breath hitching.

Chas tightens her grip, kisses the top of her head. “We’ll get him out.”

 

 

 

 

 

Nobody seems to know what to do next, but Aaron’s damned if he’s going to wait around.

This is their barn, the one he and Robert have spent so much time in together, and he knows it better than Chrissie ever could. Chas is barking orders at Cain and somebody else, Adam has an arm around Vic, and nobody’s looking at Aaron, not even Lawrence, who’s under fire from Diane and Pearl.

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Aaron doesn’t wait, takes off down the hill, content that he has enough of a head start that even if someone follows, they won’t catch him before he gets there. The doors seem more ominous than usual, but he knows the left one sticks so much that Chrissie will believe it’s shut tight when it’s not. He shoves down the memories of doing this when he was coming to meet Robert, of the look on Robert’s face, the press of his body. Aaron’s bone-deep terrified that he’ll never get that again, and shoulders the door open, not even caring if it’s loud enough that Chrissie will hear.

As soon as his eyes adjust to the darkness of the barn, he can see Robert, Chrissie and Liv down the far end, where Aaron had been married not hours ago. Now there’s a flash new car waiting there, making Aaron’s heart skip a beat. This, then, explains Robert’s mischievous look. There’s a _just married_ sign hanging from the back, with badly decorated tins tied to the bottom. It has Liv written all over it, and Aaron hates that the surprise is being ruined like this. He wants to watch it pull up outside the pub, wants to be able to thump Robert and berate him for spending so much money, wants to love the fact that he's going to keep it anyway.

He grits his teeth, approaches slowly. “Chrissie.”

Chrissie doesn’t look startled to see him, must have heard him smash through the door. “Hello again,” she says, oddly calm. “My dad told you, then.”

“Rebecca actually,” Aaron says, because even now he can’t help himself from taunting her.

Chrissie’s eyes narrow, but she doesn't say anything.

“Let them go.” Aaron walks between the chairs still scattered around the barn. It’s all he can do to keep his calm. Now that he’s closer, he can see Robert and Liv both tied to the metal supports that bracket the hay bales. Robert’s legs are outstretched, there’s blood matting his white shirt. Liv’s braid is coming undone, and her dress is dirty and blood smeared. Aaron can see a wound on Robert’s head, but Liv looks unmarred. It makes Aaron’s heart hurt to see them, worry gnawing at the edges of his mind.

“Like you let Lucky go?” Chrissie says, with a laugh. It sends a shudder through Aaron’s body. He grits his teeth against the urge to cuss her out, to shove down the urge to kill her. “You were supposed to be outside.”

“Why?” Aaron asks, and can see Robert’s eyes darting from Liv to Aaron and back to Chrissie.

“Get out of here, Aaron,” Robert interrupts, eyes wide in panic.

“No chance,” Aaron snaps, and feels sick with the memories; of Robert refusing to leave. He digs his fingers into the palms of his hands. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Robert swallows thickly, but whatever he might have said is drowned out by Chrissie’s nasty laugh.

“How touching. Why don’t you move closer?”

It helps that Aaron wants to; he shifts around Chrissie, keeping his eyes on her. She has a can of petrol in one hand, a flare in the other. Her eyes are wild, dazed, and that frightens Aaron more than if she’d been in control. It makes her unpredictable. As soon as he reaches the car, he bends down. He’s worked around cars most of his life, is used to the smell of petrol, but this is cloying, thick and overwhelming. He bends down beside Liv, hates how scared she looks, her tear-stained cheeks and her trembling.

Robert’s eyes watch him closely, and then he looks up at Chrissie, lip curling in such a familiar way that Aaron’s almost glad for it. “Is this what you really want for Lachlan?”

Aaron’s hands slip against the ropes but he manages to ease them loose, squeeze Liv’s hand gently. He leans in, lips close to her ear. “Run when you can. You’ll know. Don’t wait for us, get out.”

When he looks up, Chrissie is advancing on Robert, looking thunderous. “I want him _free_. I don’t care about anything else.”

“He’s already going to jail for trying to kill his granddad!” Aaron snaps at her, following Robert’s lead. Robert looks drenched, hair so wet it’s slicked to his head, and his eyes are red. Aaron can only imagine how much petrol — and real petrol this time — that Chrissie’s thrown at him. It drives his anger wild, makes him stand. “Do you really want him to be the kid with the crazy mum that did something terrible, unforgivable?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chrissie says, rounding on him. Aaron’s glad of it, even if panic squeezes his throat. It means she’s focused on him and not on Robert, or Liv.

“My dad was locked up.” Aaron hates thinking about it, but he needs to get through to Chrissie, to make her see.

“I’m nothing like him,” Chrissie spits.

“No,” Aaron agrees, gesturing behind him at Liv. “You’re about to kill a teenage girl.”

“I think that makes you worse,” Robert points out, eyes dark with anger. There’s a thrill through Aaron's body at the thought that Robert wants to protect Liv as much as he does, that they’re a family. Aaron can’t leave without either of them. “Let Liv go, Chrissie.”

Chrissie looks at Liv, but Aaron can still see the wild look, knows she won’t, not yet.

“It’s okay,” Robert says, more to Liv than to Chrissie. “Chrissie’s going to let you out, aren’t you Chrissie?”

“Don’t patronise me,” Chrissie snaps, lunging forward a step. The flare waves dangerously in her hand and Robert shrinks back, almost unconsciously. Aaron tries desperately not to think about why Robert’s flinch is so immediate, so vivid. “Why would I let her out? In here, it hurts you more.”

“No it doesn’t,” Robert says, almost immediately, and Aaron’s head snaps round to look at him. His face is calm, he looks as nasty and aloof as Aaron’s not seen him for years, but it's his tone that makes Aaron feel sick; the tone he uses when he doesn’t care, when he’s not interested in whatever you’re saying. It’s bored and cold, a voice Chrissie will know, _does_ know, and she sucks in a breath.

“Robert,” Liv cries, sounding wrecked, and Aaron doesn’t want to look behind him.

“I don’t care whether she’s here or not,” Robert says, ignoring her, his voice even. “If she burns, she burns. I love Aaron and Liv comes with him, there’s nothing in it for me.”

The barn is so quiet it’s almost deafening. Aaron wants to yell at Liv that it’s not true, that Robert’s lying. He has to be; so many nights they’ve curled up together, Robert kissing Aaron’s skin, telling him how much he loves having Liv around, including Liv in everything , wanting the family life. It doesn’t sound right now, coming out of Robert’s mouth, that he would wish hurt on Liv.

There’s a sob from Liv and Aaron’s torn between wanting to punch Robert in the face, and scream in frustration. He doesn’t know what to _do_.

Chrissie seems to have composed herself, looks at Liv with a curled lip, then up at Aaron. “Oh this is wonderful. Now your husband knows what an asshole you really are.”

Robert refuses to look ashamed, keeps his chin up. Aaron closes his eyes. His heart is pounding, fingers clenched so tightly that they’re knuckle-white. Liv’s crying and Aaron can only imagine how terrified she is, how hurt she is; he knows he is. Aaron hurts, wants to snatch her up. When he opens them, sees Chrissie focused solely on Robert, flare wavering dangerously off to the left, he realises that Liv’s free, she can run. He snarls out, “Liv, go, now!”

Stumbling to her feet, Liv does, at the same time Aaron lunges for Chrissie, eyes on the flare.

“Aaron!” Robert yells, strangled. Then, higher and more hysterical, “ _Liv_!”

Liv runs between the chairs. Aaron catches Chrissie’s wrist, tries to grab the flare. Chrissie lets out a sharp noise of frustration, digs her heels in and twists out of Aaron’s grip. She flicks the flare, eyes stark and white in the light and Aaron shrinks back, hyper aware of the petrol currently drenching Robert.

Laughing, Chrissie waves her hand crazily. She directs her anger at Robert. “She might be free, but she won’t care about losing you!”

“You stupid bitch,” Robert snaps. He sounds relieved but panicked, not as sharp and hard as he did before. “You really think I hate her?”

Chrissie says, “What are you talking about?” but Aaron knows. He _knew_.

Aaron looks up to see Liv still standing by the door, her eyes wide. Aaron wants to yell at her to go, but the words stick in his throat. Liv must see something on Aaron’s face, though, because she races out the door and to safety.

“I wanted her safe.” Robert says, “I might deserve this, but she doesn’t.”

Chrissie doesn’t seem to know what to say, but anger contorts her face. “Get over there,” she snaps at Aaron. “Closer. I want you touching when I set this place on fire.”

Aaron shifts slowly, heart soaring with the knowledge that Robert’s played her, that Liv’s safe, but still terrified with what’s to come, not that it matters; no matter what, he’s not leaving. He’s not running it it means Robert stays behind.

“Say goodbye,” Chrissie says, lips curled into an awful smile.

Aaron almost refuses, doesn’t want this kiss to be his last, but if it is, doesn’t want it to be at the behest of Chrissie. Robert’s _right there_ and he can’t resist the pull of his husband even now. He drops into a crouch, winces at the grip Robert has on the ropes around his wrists. His nails are digging into the strands so tightly that blood is coating the ends of his fingers. It makes Aaron feel sick, wants him to uncurl Robert’s hands, but he settles for resting his hands on the rope, loosening it as much as he dares in front of Chrissie. He leans in for a kiss, tries to push down the smell.

“You taste weird,” Aaron says, wrinkling up his nose. Robert’s eyes are wide and Aaron can see the panic in them, the fear he’s barely keeping a hold on. “I’m not leaving you.”

Something inherently Robert returns and he smiles, small. “This wedding night was supposed to be different. _We_ were supposed to be different. Guess I should be happy I’m getting the ‘till death do us part’ side of it.”

Aaron wants to laugh, even as his heart breaks with how fake Robert’s bravado is. He wants to cry, but he settles for touching Robert’s face. Almost immediately he’s hauled off of him. Robert’s eyes flick to the flare, shrinking back against the support, and Aaron forces Chrissie back, even as she’s grabbing him, dragging him away from Robert.

“I was supposed to have this!” Chrissie growls the words, gets her face in Aaron’s. “You drove me to this, you and _him_! You’re the reason Lachlan’s banged up!”

“Don’t put that on me,” Aaron says, angry. “You never had him. Even before me there was Bex. Probably others.” Robert lets out a noise at that, they both know it’s not true, but Aaron wants her to believe it’s true, he wants to _hurt_ her. “Robert didn’t love you, how could he? You never knew him, never wanted to know him!” Aaron does, Aaron will always want to.

Robert laughs, and Aaron thinks he’s the only one that can hear the tremor there, the fear. “I love Aaron, Chrissie, in ways I never could have loved you.”

“Now there’s really nothing stopping me from setting this place alight, is there?” Chrissie flicks the flare, the cap already removed and holds it ominously next to one of the wooden beams.

“Chrissie!” Aaron snaps.

“Please,” Robert cries.

It’s the tone of his voice, the sheer terror on his face, that makes Aaron start forward, tackling Chrissie — and the flare. He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, knows that he’s playing with Robert’s life as well as his own, but he can’t help it, he needs to _do_ something. Chrissie is fast, stumbles out of his grip, still with the flare in hand. Aaron chases after her, determined to stop her, to save Robert, but then Cain and Adam appear in the doorway at the end of the aisle. Aaron almost wants to scream at them to get back, to stop, but Chrissie sees them too and Aaron can see the defeat in her eyes.

“It’s over,” Cain tells her, starting forward, hands up like he does with the crazed sheep.

Chrissie’s shoulders sag, she knows it too, and Aaron breathes. They’re safe, they’re okay, and he doesn’t have to—

Something in Chrissie’s face clears, and she shoulders around Aaron, catches his gaze for a beat. “Not yet.”

She strikes the flare against the beam closest to them, waits only long enough for the flare to light, and throws it.

Aaron watches it arc, land at the end of the aisle. It’s not far enough to hit Robert, or land near to him, but enough that it lands in a pool of petrol by the seats. It catches alight almost immediately. Robert’s name is wrenched out of Aaron’s throat as he stumbles for him, but the fire is already threading out and over the barn floor, already crawling up the chairs and wooden supports.

Chrissie’s mouth is open, looking panicked. “I didn’t —”

“Get back!” Cain yells, as the fire spirals its way towards them. Every instinct Aaron has within him tells him the opposite, to get to Robert, but Adam and Cain wrench him out of the path of the fire. It’s all they can do to watch as the barn seem to ignite in seconds. Over the top of the crackle and spit of the flames, Aaron can hear Robert yelling for him.

Something overhead cracks and Aaron looks up in time to see one of the beams they set up for the wedding start to tip. Cain’s fingers grab his sleeve, jerk him around. “Move!”

Aaron doesn’t want to, can see Robert struggling, shifting closer to the pole he’s tied to. “No! I can’t!”

“Aaron,” Adam screams, and there are more people spilling into the barn, Chas and Paddy and someone else, grabbing Chrissie, yelling, there’s so much _noise_. The fire is spreading quickly — how much petrol did she use? — but Aaron doesn’t care. He pushes himself to his feet and starts forward, intent on getting to Robert, but Cain grabs his arm, tries to haul him back.

“I have to _help him_.”

Robert yells Aaron’s name, high and panicked, and he’s cringing back from the flames, eyes trying to find Aaron’s through the lick of fire. “I can’t let go.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron shouts back, his voice wobbling. “I’m not leaving, Robert, I swear.”

Cain isn’t letting go and Aaron shoves him back, tries to fight. “Aaron, you can’t—”

“I’m _not_ leaving,” Aaron snarls, putting enough force into his shove that Cain actually stumbles. Aaron heads back down the aisle, afraid to jump into the fire, but he can see Robert across the flames, face white. He’s breathing hard, deep lungfuls. “It’s going to be okay!”

“I can’t do this,” Robert says, over and over. “It’s how she — Aaron, please don’t leave me here.”

“We’re not leaving!” It’s not Aaron that answers, but Aaron’s mum, who comes up behind him. She’s got her eyes on Robert, but she drags her hand up Aaron’s arm, spares him a quick look to make sure he’s okay. He’s not, he can’t be, not with Robert on the other side of the fire, drenched in petrol and a step away from catching alight.

“Chas?”

It’s small, can barely be heard over the roar of the fire, but Aaron hears it. So does Chas, who immediately swallows, her eyes back on Robert. “Yes, love?”

“I’m sorry.”

Aaron’s heart clenches.

“Why?” Chas asks, her voice breaking.

Robert’s eyes are darting every which way, tracking the fire. “M’gonna make Aaron sad.”

Like Aaron’s not stood feet away from him, _watching_ him. Aaron wants to jump through the fire, doesn’t care if he goes up in flames if it means he can get to Robert that much sooner. Chas has a tight grip on his sleeve, keeps him next to her. The longer they wait, the less time Robert has, but Aaron doesn’t know how to convey that to her.

“He’s right here, Robert. You’re going to be okay, do you hear me?”

Robert laughs, a choked out sound that sets Aaron’s teeth on edge. He pulls out of his mum’s grasp, hears Adam and Cain come up behind them.

“We have to get him out,” Aaron says, _pleads_ , and Cain and Adam exchange a look. Adam immediately starts trying to find a way through the cracked wood, the flames roaring in front of them. Cain waits a beat and then tries the same, moving through the chairs. Aaron follows, can hear still Chas yelling over the flames.

“Robert? Talk to me,” Chas yells, drawing Robert’s attention to the flames.

“My mum died like this,” Robert cries. He’s not pulling on the ropes anymore, his eyes are on the fire. Aaron’s more terrified than he can ever remember being, even in that damn car. Terrified that he’s finally happy, finally has everything he ever wanted, and he’s going to lose it. “I don’t wanna die like this.”

“Robert!” Chas yells, inching closer to the fire.

Cain comes to the end of the barn with a frustrated yell, looks back at Aaron. “There’s no way through.”

There is; Aaron can see it. There’s a break in the flames, not enough to be safe, but enough that Aaron can jump through if he wanted to. He takes a deep breath, eyes going to where Robert’s sitting, to Chas trying to keep him calm. They’re fighting each other, one too panicked to listen, the other trying too hard to calm him down. Cain’s coming back, eyes wide, he _knows_.

“Aaron, don’t you—”

Aaron doesn’t hesitate; he runs forward, hopes against hope that this works, and jumps.

 

 

 

 

 

“Aaron!” Robert’s yell cuts through the roaring in Aaron’s ears. “Stop moving, you’ll kill us both!”

Aaron can’t. Flames lick his left arm, shooting up his sleeve. _The hug_ , he thinks abstractly, petrol must have transferred. It _hurts_ , he wants to put it out but he doesn’t know how, doesn’t know how to stop it, fuck, it _hurts_. His jacket is on fire and he immediately starts to take it off.

“You’ll tear your arm,” Robert screams at him, feet scrabbling against the floor. “Aaron, focus on me, grab that blanket!”

He’s shouting too much, it’s confusing, but it cuts through the pain filled panic in Aaron’s head. He looks up, sees a wet Robert - fuck, the petrol - and Aaron immediately stumbles back. There’s a blanket on the floor, half draped over the car. Heart pounding in his hears, he grabs the corner, immediately tries to pat down the flames.

“Smother them,” Robert says, loud.

“Please, Robert,” Aaron says, his voice wavering. “I need you.”

“I can’t,” Robert says, wretched. He’s looking Aaron up and down, like he’s not the one tied to a post, blood matting his head, soaked in petrol. He’s a step away from going up in flames, and Aaron can’t leave him here, needs him to get out. “I can’t let go.”

The blanket puts out most of the fire, but his arm is still smouldering. Aaron tries to block everything out, his world narrows down to Robert. He wraps the blanket tight around his arm, grips the fabric hard enough that he feels sick with the pain.

“Please,” Aaron says. He can’t move forward. He’s terrified of moving closer, of his smouldering jacket, still sparking in parts, doing more harm to Robert than good. “I can’t come over, Robert, _please_.”

Robert swallows, eyes red from more than just the petrol. “I can’t let go, Aaron. My fingers won’t let go.”

Aaron’s chest seizes, feels bile rise in his throat. “Robert, you can, okay? You can let go, you have to move.”

Keeping his eyes trained on Robert’s hands, on the curve of his fingers against the pole, Aaron pleads with him. Robert is shaking, tremors wracking his body, but Aaron’s conscious of the fire roaring around them, how much time they _don’t_ have.

“Please,” Aaron says, and it’s full of everything he can’t say; _I need you, I love you, please, Robert, I can’t do this without you._

It seems to take an age, minutes sliding by in what feels like hours, but eventually Robert seems to peel his fingers away from the wood, his eyes on Aaron the entire time.

“That’s it,” Aaron says, encouraging, taking another step forward. “Robert, you have to be quick.”

Painstakingly, Robert slips his hands from the ropes, and starts to peel off his jacket. Aaron winces at the sight of Robert’s hands as he starts to whip off his clothes, as far from the fire as he can.

It’s as if the sound tumbles back into existence then; the roar of the fire, his mum’s screams, the whine of fire sirens in the back ground. Aaron takes a step towards Robert. “We have to get out of here.”

Robert shudders, drops his trousers until he’s stood there in just his boxers. His eyes catch the flames and his whole body goes taut, eyes wide.

“Come on, Robert, please.” Aaron can’t stop himself from saying it. Robert blinks, looks up slowly and takes one step forward. “Come on.”

There’s a crash, a splintering of wood behind them, and Aaron sees part of the barn give way. He jerks forward, half-stumbles into Robert. His bad arm slams into Robert’s chest, the blanket between them. Robert hastily wraps him up tight, pain exploding up Aaron’s arm, but he feels Robert solid beneath him; they’re both trembling, frightened, but Aaron’s got Robert in his arms.

Almost immediately people spill through the hole in the barn, start pulling at them, trying to get them out. Robert’s grip on Aaron is painfully tight, and Aaron refuses to let him go as they’re dragged away from the fire.

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron’s whisked away to a waiting ambulance, Robert to another, and no amount of yelling and threats from either party change the minds of the paramedics. Aaron’s half out of it, now that he’s away from the rush of trying to help Robert, from the fear of the fire, and it crashes down on him.

His mum’s running a hand through his hair, kissing the side of his face. She’d climbed into the ambulance when it was clear the paramedics would not be moved on taking him to Robert, and it’s the next best thing to have his husband with him. “You scared me.”

Aaron can’t say anything, the press of the oxygen mask against his cheeks, and he wouldn’t anyway. The paramedic is working on his arm, doing something Aaron can’t see, but it’s painful. He winces, keeps his eyes on his mum.

“You did a very brave thing today, love,” Chas says, stroking his cheek gently.

It didn’t feel brave when he was doing it, just felt right. He can’t say that, can’t say anything, and just closes his eyes, gives in to the rhythmic brushing of her hand through his hair.

 

 

 

 

 

When the doctor is done with peeling the material off, Aaron’s eyes land on his arm. The doctor tells him that it will scar, that they can do skin grafts if he wants. His mum’s eyes are wet and she kisses his face, but Aaron can’t stop staring at the blackened skin.

“Aaron?” Chas touches his cheek, forces his head up. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll do whatever —”

“No,” Aaron says, startling them both. He shakes his head, doesn’t really know how to put it into words. “It’s fine. It’s okay.”

 

 

 

 

 

Liv spills into the room once Aaron’s bandaged up and released into the care of his mum. She’s changed into jogging bottoms and a hoodie, but she’s still been crying. She immediately pulls him into a hug and Aaron holds her tight, hates himself for not asking about her as soon as he saw his mum in the barn.

“Are you okay?” He speaks into her hair, doesn’t want to pull away before she does. His heart is still hammering against his chest when he thinks about the look on her face.

Liv nods roughly, curls her fingers into Aaron’s jacket. “I thought you were going to die.”

Aaron closes his eyes, lets out a rough breath. He doesn’t know what to say. There’s a long painful silence where neither of them speak, neither of them are quite sure how to. Liv stiffens, but doesn’t pull away.

“Did Robert get out?”

Aaron thinks of Robert, the terror and the fire and everything inbetween, and buries his face in Liv’s hair. “Yeah, yeah he did.”

“Did he mean what he said?” She asks, even quieter than the last.

Heart clenching painfully, Aaron strokes a hand through her hair. “Of course he didn’t, Liv. He wanted to keep you safe, you know that. You heard him, you know he loves you.”

Liv makes a face at the last part, but he also sees the happiness on her face that she’s trying to hide. “He didn’t have to—”

“Hey,” Aaron says, pulling back enough that he can touch her cheek, make her look at him. “He wanted to protect you, and he knows how to fool Chrissie, had to say what she needed to hear. I promise you that he cares about you.”

Liv still looks uncertain, angry, and Aaron knows the only thing that will help is having it out with Robert herself.

“Come on,” Aaron says, desperate to see Robert himself. They’ve been apart too long already, his skin crawls with the need to check up on his husband, to know they’re both safe and well.

Liv nods, reluctant, but attaches herself to Aaron’s side as they head out of the cubicle. It’s clingier than she normally allows herself to be, but Aaron allows it, wants to keep her within reaching distance right now.

 

 

 

 

 

They hear Robert before they see him.

“I want to know how my husband is! Aaron Dingle, he _came in_ with me!”

“Mr Sugden, if you just—”

“Don’t just anything. He was burned!” There’s a pause. Then, calmer, “Please find out for me. I want to know he’s okay.”

It’s too soft, too scared, and Aaron quickens his stride. Liv’s peeled away from him a little, is half a step behind as they brush the curtain aside.

“You want to keep it quiet in here?”

“Aaron,” Robert breathes, and it’s so soft, so reverent, that the nurse, half a step from kicking Aaron out, seems to relax. “You’re okay.”

“I’m his husband ,” Aaron says, ignoring Robert for a beat and talking to the nurse. “Is it okay if I—?”

The nurse acquiesces with a nod. “I’ll be back when it’s time to leave. Despite what he might tell you, he _does_ need his rest.”

Aaron waits only until the curtain closes behind her to stumble towards the bed, to lean down and bury his face in Robert’s hair. It’s been washed, smells like generic hospital shampoo. It’s still wet, curling at the end, and Aaron relishes the smell of his husband without the thick aroma of petrol. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Robert says, his voice wavering.“Aaron. Aaron, I—”

“It’s okay,” Aaron whispers, leaning in to kiss Robert. It feels right, _good_ , and he can’t believe after what they’ve been through that they get to be here, they get to be _safe_.

When he pulls back, Aaron looks, _really_ looks, Robert over, and his heart clenches painfully. Robert’s got a stretch of gauze against his temple and bruising around that same eye. There's an oxygen mask resting against his chest that he probably should be wearing, and his hands are bandaged, resting palm up on the bed either side of him. He looks tired, drawn out, and Aaron’s not imagining the fear hiding behind dull eyes.

Robert tries to give him a weak smile. “M’okay. Pole burned my hands, trouble breathing.”

Aaron aches for him, knows it’s more than that, remembers the broken nails, the blood coating his fingers. Knows Robert's chest is weak enough without having to deal with the smoke from the fire. He doesn’t ask, just brushes Robert’s hair back and plants another kiss on his lips.

“Are you okay?” Robert asks, eyes lingering on Aaron’s arm. “Your arm—”

“It’s fine,” Aaron presses, not wanting to talk about it here. That’s for home, when they can just be them, and they don’t have the press of this hanging over them. “I’m fine, I promise.”

Robert lets out another shaky breath, closes his eyes.

“Robert?”

Aaron startles, turns to see Liv standing awkwardly at the end of the bed. He looks back in time to see the panic on Robert’s face, guilt warring with relief.

“Liv, you’re safe?” Robert asks like he hardly dares hope, like he’s afraid of the answer.

“Did you mean it?”

“Liv,” Aaron says, wants her to wait, but he knows why she’s asking.

“It’s okay,” Robert says quietly, and Aaron thinks he might hate those words. Everything’s so far from okay, he can’t begin to process it. “Liv, I just wanted her to think I didn’t want you there. I hoped she’d let you go.”

“Didn’t sound like it,” Liv says, her voice low and hurt.

Robert closes his eyes for a beat hand twitching against the bed. It tugs a little on the IV threaded into his arm. He stares at his hands. “I had to make her think it was true, that I didn’t care what happened to you. Of course I do, Liv. I didn’t want — I would never want to hurt you – I love you.”

Liv stares at him for an uncomfortably long time, so long that Aaron’s afraid she’ll walk out without saying anything else. Instead, she seems to stagger towards the bed, wraps an arm around Robert and hugs him awkwardly, mindful of his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Robert says, into the curve of her shoulder.

“S’okay,” Liv mumbles. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Robert’s arm comes up to the back of Liv’s head, holds her there for a while. “Need help against Aaron, don’t I?”

Liv laughs, weak and watery. She pulls back, keeps a hand pressed to Robert’s chest. “Think you might regret that, actually.”

Aaron can’t help but smile, knows Liv’s right; Robert’s weak to both of them, unable to resist whatever they ask of him. It’s the same the other way around too, he knows. The three of them, they’re forever, and Aaron feels sick when he thinks about how close he came to losing them both.

“Hey,” Robert says, nudging him gently with an elbow. “You okay?”

“No,” Aaron admits softly, because it’s just Robert and Liv; they _know_ him. “Neither are you.”

Robert’s lips thin but he doesn’t refute it.

Liv brushes a hand over her eyes, looking between them. She backs away from Robert’s bed, throws a glance at the curtain. “I’ll find your mum, tell her we’ll be ready soon, yeah?”

Robert looks panicked then, but nods quickly, his smile the wrong side of forced.

Aaron rests his hand in Robert’s hair, threads his fingers through the nearly-dry strands. “Tell her I’ll be here till they kick me out.”

Liv looks set to argue, but Aaron looks at Robert pointedly — at the naked relief on his face — and he can see the moment she understands. “Fine.” Before she leaves completely, she hangs onto the curtain with one hand, looks at the floor, the bed, anywhere but at Robert. “Thanks, Robert.”

She disappears before Robert can reply.

 

 

 

 

 

Robert doesn’t say anything for a long time, enough that Aaron’s half-afraid they’ll sit in silence the entire time. Aaron’s fingers drag through Robert’s hair, nails scratching lightly at Robert’s scalp, and Robert presses into it. He exhales slowly, turns towards Aaron.

“I was only trying to surprise ya.”

Aaron takes a minute, leans onto the bed, mindful of his bandaged arm. “I know.”

A shaky breath and Robert blinks up at Aaron. He looks distant, looking at a point somewhere over Aaron’s left shoulder. “Do you think she was that scared?”

Aaron doesn’t have to ask who; he tugs his fingers from Robert’s hair, rests them on his chin. It draws Robert’s eyes back to his. “I don’t know,” he says gently. “I wish I could tell you that she wasn’t.”

Robert’s expression turns pained and he swallows thickly, reaching up with his hand to awkwardly press it to Aaron’s. It has to be painful, but Robert doesn’t seem to notice. Aaron cradles it gently, rubs his thumb against the skin of Robert’s wrist.

“I like these scars,” Aaron says, nodding to his own arm. The change of subject startles Robert, but he’s paying attention, eyes tracking Aaron’s face. “You can’t see the others anymore, just these.”

_I’ve almost lost you twice now_ , Robert had said, back then, rubbing a thumb over Aaron’s scars. Now he’s looking at Aaron’s arm, but not in the same way. He looks reverent, almost, a myriad of emotions in his eyes.

“You know I’m not good at this stuff,” Aaron admits softly, but he drags it up from somewhere, needs Robert to know that he never would have left him there, never would have let him suffer the same fate as Sarah. “But I would have - you know, with you in there and Liv. I would have stayed.”

It’s Robert’s turn to hear the admission and turn away, throat working. His eyes are wet.

Aaron gives him a beat, then guides his face back. “Hey,” he says, thumb brushing over Robert’s bottom lip. “These scars make me strong.”

“So did the others,” Robert says fiercely, eyes dark.

“I’m keeping ‘em,” Aaron says just as firmly. “I’m proud of these ones, got ‘em saving you, didn’t I?”

Robert knows what he’s trying to say, Aaron can see it in the way his face clears, the sheer emotion in his eyes. Aaron leans down and Robert meets him halfway, kisses him hard. Aaron wants to believe it can chase the lingering worries away, but he’s not stupid enough to think that it will work.

When they pull apart, Robert presses his face into Aaron, resting his cheek against Aaron’s forearm. “I really fucking hate fire.”

At Robert’s weak grin, Aaron huffs out a laugh and drops his forehead to Robert’s temple. The angle is awkward and they’re both gonna get aches in their neck, but in that moment, Aaron doesn’t care. They’re alive, maybe not whole, maybe not _okay_ , but —

Robert lets out a slow, contented breath, and says, “I love you,” into Aaron’s shoulder.

“I love you too,” Aaron replies, lips pressed to the curve of Robert’s ear.

— they’ll get there, together.

**Author's Note:**

>  **warnings;** the barn sets on fire; robert suffers mentally from the effects (and gets major burns on his hands) and at one point, aaron's arm is set on fire.


End file.
